


Semper Fi

by slashsailing



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Angst and Humor, Double Dating, M/M, Mild Language, Reconciliation, References to Drugs, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2170044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashsailing/pseuds/slashsailing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story detailing the most awkward double date in the history of double dates: Ty, Zane, Nick and Kelly end up spending the weekend together in Kelly’s cabin where Nick and Ty takes some time to work through their issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Semper Fi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sauciemel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sauciemel/gifts).



Spending a weekend all together in Kelly’s cabin sounded like just the sort of thing Sidewinder needed. No big cities. No drama. No  _guns_. Ty was actually looking forward to seeing the guys for a couple of days of what could definitely be classed a more  _low-key_  excitement they they’ve been accustomed to. A quiet, secluded cabin sounded ideal—sure, they might be a little tight for space but that was half the fun.

Or it would have been until they get a call from Digger saying that he’s  _tied up in the Bayou_ and isn’t gonna be able to make it—Ty’s pretty sure he hears an explosion of some kind in the background which sounds the very opposite of  _low-key_. When that news spreads, Owen isn’t slow in coming forward and expressing that under  _no circumstance_  is he going to  _fifth-wheel a double date_.

And then Ty’s hopes of a fun weekend are shattered.

A double date.  _With Nick and Kelly._

“Maybe we should call it off. You know, wait until everyone can make it?”

“It’s not gonna be that bad,” Zane assures him. But Ty can see too much amusement in Zane’s eyes to be comforted by his words. Zane revels in the way Ty is still internally squirming over Nick and Kelly’s relationship—mostly because Zane doesn’t get it. Kelly and Nick are like brothers to Ty, brothers to  _each other_ , and suddenly they’re fucking at every available opportunity and now they’re working with Emma’s team together which probably means they’re fucking two or three times a day and Ty  _doesn’t_  know how he’s come up with those figures but he  _has_  and the images that come along with them are  _haunting_  him.

“It’s going to be  _awful_ ,” Ty says with an uncharacteristic purse of his lips, brows furrowed.

“Don’t pout, baby.” 

Ty glares but his stomach flip-flops at the way Zane is looking at him, easy love and affection, dark eyes tender and wholesome, acting as a balm over Ty’s discomfort.

“We’re gonna drive up there tomorrow and it’ll be great.” Zane’s voice is too firm to argue with, it’s rough like gravel but dripping heavy too, like melted chocolate—mostly it just makes lust pool in Ty’s groin. It falls just shy of being delivered as a command and it switches something on inside Ty until he’s buzzing with desire.

“Let’s forget about it for tonight,” Ty suggests, blinking slowly and getting his gaze fall to Zane’s lips to mark his intent.

Ty’s not just irked by Nick and Kelly’s relationship, it’s more than that. Both of them know it, although it continues to go completely unspoken. Ty’s afraid of having to face Nick again after almost a year of not seeing him. After almost a year of cross words and burning accusations; seeing the hurt in Nick’s eyes a thousand times worse than seeing anger.

And now they’ve got to spend an intimate weekend together in a tiny two-bed cabin.

Ty shakes himself, trying to settle the anxiety, trying to push down the nerves and shake the restless anticipation from his bones.

“Take me to bed, Zane,” Ty murmurs, slipping his hands into Zane’s and letting Zane walk him backwards until Ty feels the wall at his back. Zane presses Ty against the wall with the broad expanse of his chest and dips his head to kiss Ty’s throat, lips working their way over stubble to Ty’s lips. When Zane pulls away again, Ty is left hard with his chest heaving and his limps feeling like jelly. But Zane is there, guiding him up the stairs of their newly finished three-floor conversion—up to their bedroom.

When they finally make it up the stairs, Ty’s body feels loose, like he’s floating through water—only tethered to shore by the anticipation of Zane inside him.

“What do you want, baby?” Zane murmurs, letting his lips curve into a small smirk.

“You  _know_  what I want,” Ty huffs, he moves to push Zane away but his fingers turn traitor, holding the material of Zane’s t-shirt—clinging to it—and finally pulling Zane closer. Zane’s hands find Ty’s hips and his fingers tuck themselves into the waistband of his pants. “Please,” Ty whispers—hazel eyes wide and imploring. It reminds Zane of their undercover cruise; something that only seems like yesterday but in reality is another life completely. Two people trying to work out who they are and what they want. Zane’s got his answers now, and he knows Ty does too.

So Zane nudges Ty’s cheek with his nose, urging him across the room to their bed. If a hard fuck will settles Ty’s nerves and see the worry of facing Nick again pushed aside, Zane is more than happy to oblige. He  _understands_  why Ty is so worried, and Zane is only too familiar with how that doubt and fear can fester inside of Ty. Nick’s been his best friend since they were teenagers and, after so long with only broken communication and the charade of normalcy running between them, Zane knows what’s at stake—how important this weekend will be.

Stripping himself of his t-shirt, Zane kneels between Ty’s outstretched thighs.

“Take it off,” he directs, patting Ty’s flank. “I wanna watch.”

Zane’s heart jumps when he says it; he’s not a voyeur by nature but there is something inherently sexy about watching Ty strip himself. There is a brashness to Ty’s action that belies his experience in the military; he’s not afraid to be naked, nor is he ashamed in any way of his body. And he shouldn’t be. Ty is carved like ancient white marble under the hands of a renowned sculptor; he’s arguably in better shape than he was when he was in the FBI—he has more time to spend running and at the gym and every inch of him is well kept, unmarred by the aches of an old life, now safely tucked away in the archives of their new one.

So Ty shimmies out of his sweatpants and t-shirt, kneeling naked on the bed before Zane’s appraisal. Zane’s eyes turn black and he smirks.

“Gonna fuck that tension right out of you, Beaumont,” he whispers, pushing Ty back down onto the mattress and holding him there.

“Get on with it then,  _Garrett_ ,” Ty counters, his chest is heaving but his voice is sure and even. Hazel eyes turning bright with challenge.

Zane just grins, ducking his head to draw Ty into a wet kiss, tongue tracing Ty’s lower lip before they part, welcoming Zane like it’s exactly where he should be right now—which, really, it is. But Zane’s hands have places to be too, namely making their way down Ty’s ribs, settling at his hips for just a moment until they pull away to allow him to unbutton his own jeans, shucking them off along with his boxers. It’s not long before he’s back between Ty’s legs, though, urging Ty’s thighs up towards his chest, calves hooking over Zane’s shoulders.

This might actually be Zane’s favourite thing in the world; he loves everything they do with an intensity to rival a burning forest, but there is something about having Ty safe beneath him, open and laid bare, that makes more than just Zane’s cock rejoice.

The merry debauched look in Ty’s eyes helps too.

Zane would tease Ty with his fingers, but Ty’s nails are biting at his biceps and Zane’s hand is reaching for the lube and his cock and suddenly he isn’t in control anymore. It’s a murky moment of Ty’s pleading  _Zane, just—please, just fuck me_  and Zane’s own grunts and groans as he slides his cock along the cleft of Ty’s ass.

Then the tip of his cock is pressed against Ty and it is immediate and concentrated sensation, like a bright white penlight in a dark room. Zane’s pupils are blown wider than any drug has ever made them and he gasps as Ty arches his back, pushing himself onto Zane’s cock with a deep, guttural moan and a whined  _Zane_.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Zane promises, gripping Ty’s hips and bucking hard and fast. Not daring to leave Ty wanting. They press their foreheads together and Zane watches, revelling in each time Ty’s eyelids flutter as Zane hits his prostate.

“Fuck,” Ty gasps, throwing his head back, baring his neck to Zane who licks and sucks until the skin is red. “Baby, I’m gon—“

Zane feels Ty clench around him and he thrusts his hips harder, trying to angle each move of his hips just right to keep Ty tumbling over the edge. And Zane follows soon after, panting like it’s the first time they’ve fucked in months.

It definitely isn’t.

“How you feeling?” Zane whispers, not quite ready to pull out and clean up just yet.

“Better.” Ty yawns, little grin curving one side of his mouth upwards. “Can’t really think right now.”

“Sounds like a job well done then, doll.”

“Hmm, you need a pat on the back?”

Zane chuckles, rolling them onto their sides before pulling Ty backwards into his arms.

“Just sleep. We’ve got an early start.”

—

“Come on, Zane,  _please._  Let’s cancel. I’ll make it worth your while,” Ty singsongs the last sentence, drawing out the ‘i’ like a low rumble of thunder which is completely unfair—Ty knows what his voice does to Zane when he sings.

“Ty, get out of the bed.”

“No.”

“ _Now._ ”

It takes them two hours longer than it should have to get there, but when Zane and Ty finally arrive at Kelly’s cabin—Kelly’s  _old_  cabin? Kelly  _and Nick’s_  cabin?—Ty has worked himself up to a nervous wreck and back down into calm, almost stone-like soldier zone. Neither of which is how Nick and Kelly have been used to seeing Ty, and it sets Zane on edge before they even get out of the car.

Ty tries to shake out of it, he really does. But he’s too restless. There are too many variables he cannot account for and he can’t foresee what’s going to happen and he  _hates_ that feeling. The dark abyss of the unknown.

The porch door is already open, even though neither Kelly nor Nick is outside. Zane raps his knuckles on the door but the sound of music carries from inside and so it’s understandable that the guys wouldn’t have heard.

“What if they’re naked?”

“They know we’re coming, they won’t be naked.”

“To torment me,” Ty hisses. “They’ll be naked to torment me.”

Zane just rolls his eyes and heads inside.

Although he’s never been in the cabin before the layout is pretty typical of what he expected, and he finds the kitchen easily. Kelly and Nick are by the sink. Nick with his hands in a basin of soapy water while he washes dishes, while Kelly helpfully has his arms wrapped around Nick’s middle, singing along with the radio against Nick’s neck.

Zane hears Ty makes a discontented sound and he chuckles, startling the other men out of their reverie.

“Heard you knock,” Nick says defensively. “Kels just refused to get the door.”

“It was open,” Ty says gently.

“Which I told him,” Kelly says, nudging Nick in the ribs before stepping away. “You guys look good, retirement suits you.”

Zane scoffs; Ty is still busy having a staring contest with Nick. Kelly tries not to look awkward but Zane can tell it must be difficult. Kelly’s trying to be neutral, perhaps even more so than Zane is, but it’s got to be hard finding the line.

“I’ll help you with your bags,” Kelly says, looking at Zane. He walks passed Ty and claps him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you guys could make it, Six.”

Zane is grateful for the use of that nickname. He knows what it means and he knows what Kelly is trying to do through using it. Nick looks unfazed by everything, eyes slowly moving from person to person, he licks his bottom lip before Zane turns to follow Kelly out of the room and Zane has to wonder whether it’s born from nerves or annoyance.

He guesses he’ll find out sooner or later.

“That was tense,” he murmurs when they reach the car.

“I’ve talked to Nick. I think he wants to talk it out with Ty, they just need time.”

“Well they’ve only got today and tomorrow.” Zane shrugs. It sounds brutal but it’s the truth. “Ty’s terrified,” he admits, voice much quieter.

“Nicky’s just gotta lick old wounds a bit. It might get worse before it gets better.”

“ _Nicky_?” Zane quirks an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell him you heard me call him that,” Kelly says with a grin. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”

—

“Tyler,” Nick says, stepping back from the sink and drying his hands on the dishcloth.

“Irish.” Ty tries to smile, but it might look at little more like a grimace.

“You been alright?”

“Good, yeah. Uh, you?”

“Yeah. It’s different, you know, but it’s interesting.”

“We’ve all had a change of pace, I guess.”

“Never figured you for a bookstore.”

“Zane loves it. You guys should, ah, you should visit.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we might.”

There’s a moment of silence, heavy, pushing them apart. It’s thick with regret and doubt. Ty steps forward.

“Look, Nick, I—“

“Hey,” Nick says, looking passed Ty’s shoulder with gratefulness in his gaze. “Kels, would you ah—“ Nick waves his hand in an indiscriminate gesture. “I’m gonna—there’s a thing outside.” 

“And you need to do it right now?” Kelly questions, eyes reproachful.

Ty swallows. The rejection stings but he can’t say he blames Nick. It’s all different now. And it’s his fault. His web of lies and deceit. It doesn’t matter the reason, it doesn’t matter what his intentions were. He fucked things up and Nick was honest about the fallout.

Nick just shrugs, slipping passed them without another word.

Zane reaches for Ty but the other man shrugs away. Pulling his hand back, Zane looks to Kelly for direction.

“I’m gonna make pancakes,” he says, like it’s some sort of secret therapy. “Why don’t you two head upstairs. Long drive and all that. I’ll call you when they’re done.”

Ty is too resigned to argue.

It looks like their weekend getaway—definitely not a  _v-word_ —has taken a sharp nosedive.

—

“He still can’t trust me,” Ty says, utterly devoid of hope. “He looks at me and just sees lie after lie.”

Zane watches as Ty throws himself down onto the edge of the bed, bent forward with his head in his hands, his touches his fingers to his temples before scrubbing them over the bridge of his nose and under each eye. Exhaling a settling breath, Zane sits beside Ty, lightly patting his thigh.

“This is your chance to work it out. If Nick wants honesty then maybe you have to give it to him. Explain everything. You’re a different man to the one who had to make those decisions. You’re living a different life now, Ty. You’ve all grown up and you have to move passed it. If we managed to do it, you and Nick will work it out.”

“I don’t think that matters. I already fucked us up. Damage done.”

“I know what self-pity looks like, Ty,” Zane huffs. “Wallowing isn’t pretty. I’m gonna take a shower.”

Ty looks almost offended, anger flashing in his eyes. But he lets Zane go, picking up one of the towels that have been left out for them, fishing out their wash bag before heading back out onto the landing. Zane’s right, though; Ty and Nick have left this badness hang between them for too long. It  _isn’t_  right. It  _isn’t_  them. Ty did what he thought he had to to protect the people he loved; his sense of right and wrong has always treaded a line that Nick’s has never. Ty is a black rook, hidden in shadow and coming up the rear. Nick is that white fucking knight, obvious in its attack, it can’t take the place of a king but people seem sentimental towards it anyway.

Nick deserves more than Ty’s sentimentality.

_“I love you like my own brother… I know you’ve got to be mad at me for a while. But remember that.”_

A year is a while longer than Ty had initially expected, but he gets it now. Heading out of the bedroom and towards the banister, the sound of Nick’s voice on the landing below makes him pause.

“I want it to be like it always was, but it’s not, Kels.”

“You have to give him a chance, babe.”

“I don’t know how.”

Nick sounds lost and heartbroken and it should be Ty’s job—his  _duty_ —to clear all traces of those feelings from Nick. They’re best friends, they’re brothers, and Ty isn’t going to sit back and let the rift between them grow and grow until they really  _won’t_  be able to mend it.

“Hey, O?” he calls from the top of the stairs. Nick’s freckled face peeks around the corner wall and for a moment Ty thinks Nick might berate him for eavesdropping. “We need to talk,” Ty continues, making his way down the stairs. He stops half way and sits down, feeling like a child, awash with guilt and confusion.

“I’ll get back to those pancakes,” Kelly murmurs, and Ty hears him kiss Nick somewhere that is still out of Ty’s line of sight—his neck maybe or the back of his hand. “Try and keep it peaceful.”

Kelly’s worry that there could be violence isn’t a completely unfounded one. But Ty thinks it’s highly unlikely. Ty only wishes he could move Nick to that sort of physical outburst; it would mean the problem is more of a surface one, one they can beat out of each other and laugh about later. But this runs deeper. It runs cold inside Nick and keeps the ruddiness from his cheeks. A stoniness that makes Ty feel sick; Nick is far removed from him now, aloof,  reticent.

Ty wonders if his presence actually makes Nick uncomfortable.

“I know ‘sorry’ doesn’t make a difference anymore. I hurt you, I  _lied_  to you, and I know I can’t take that back. But I would die for you, Irish, and I can’t stand the way this shit has turned out. You’ve always been—”

“At your beck and fucking call? Like a lapdog who just couldn’t bear to say no?”

“That’s not fucking fair.”

“No,” Nick scoffs. “It’s not. But it’s true.”

“You’re my best friend. I ask you for your help with shit because I  _trust_  you. Because we’ve been friends since we were  _eighteen_. Because you’ve saved my sorry ass more times than I can count.” Ty wipes his hand over his face and sighs. “I just want you back around. I want you to stand beside me on my wedding day and  _not_  hate me.”

“Deuce—“

“Is blood. And I would do anything for him. And he’ll be a great best man. But we  _worked_  for what we had, Irish. Blood and sweat and tears, and it was  _always_  supposed to be you.” Ty comes to an abrupt halt before chuffing out a breath; he’s exhausted from this, from the anger and the grief—it’s tearing flesh from bone and leaving him like road kill on the side of the highway.

And then Nick curls his fingers around Ty’s forearm.

Ty’s head snaps up and he waits. Waits for rejection. For absolution.

“I miss you, Tyler,” Nick whispers. “I miss us. But I meant what I said in Scotland. I don’t trust your judgement. I’m not sure if I can be the unquestioning, unfaltering, fall-into-step go-to friend. And I’m not sure if you can deal with me challenging you. I don’t wanna make it worse.”

“Can it get worse? Can I actually sink any lower in your eyes?”

It’s Ty’s turn to look hopeless and heartbroken. Nick sighs

“I’d still take a bullet for you, Ty. Don’t underestimate your worth to me. I just—I’m just fucking angry,” but his voice doesn’t sound angry, he sounds  _drained_.

“I’m not the guy who made those decisions. I’m different, Irish. I’ve come a long fucking way. I was try’na do what I thought was right back then. I was just—” Ty stops himself, there’s really no way to explain what he did or why he did it; it made sense and the time and both Ty and Nick know that if he had to make some of those calls again, his decisions would remain unchanged.

So Nick just nods; he holds the weight of the world in his green eyes and Ty tries to gauge what he’s thinking. Finally, Nick rounds the corner completely and sits on the step below Ty’s. His body is turned to the side so he can look up at Ty, slight frown denting his brow. Ty appreciates the closeness even if Nick’s posture is still closed off. He’s testing the waters—seeing if he can still swim in Ty’s sea.

“I think I had some hero worship shit going on,” Nick starts, hesitant. “And you kinda ruined it big time and it made me mad. I let it fester and then Scotland was just the fucking breaking point, you know? And maybe I have been an asshole but you definitely deserved it and I stand by everything I’ve said because yeah—yeah we’ve all told lies over the years but not about—I’ve never lied about your fucking  _life_ , Ty.You know? And it was such fucking garbage. ‘Cause I fucking trusted you. With everything. I was fucking in love with you for like  _twenty_  years and it was so misguided and it doesn’t matter that I don’t love you like that now. Because that _isn’t_ the point. The point is you came and crashed through my perfect idea of who you were and what you stood for.  _Semper fi_ , you know? That was supposed to be  _us_.”

“I know,” Ty whispers. “I know, Nick. I fucking—“

Nick sets his forehead down—a little heavily—on Ty’s knee.

“It can’t go back to how it was,” Nick says. “It  _isn’t_  how it was. You’re right, we’re different guys.”

 “I just wanna be one worth your friendship.”

“Ty,” Nick pleads, sounding appalled. When he looks up, he’s frowning. But somehow it’s more familiar than anything Ty’s seen of Nick since before NOLA, before everything went to hell between them. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Look at you like what?”

“With that dopey grin,” Nick chuckles; it’s tight, but it’s a start—one that Ty is willing to clutch between the jaws.  

“What’re you doing on the stairs?” Zane asks from the landing just as Kelly calls, “Pancakes!” from the kitchen. Ty and Nick swap looks of amusement before they get off the stairs and follow the sound of Kelly’s voice, Zane close behind them.

—

Kelly’s pancakes are above par, but of course nowhere near as awesome as Nick’s. Or so Nick says, anyway.

“Yeah, babe. Pancake King, we’ll add it to the list of nicknames.”

While it’s an innocent enough statement, Kelly’s gleeful grin makes it clear he’s not just talking about Sidewinder nicknames.

“Ugh,” Ty whines. “Do you have to? At the table?”

“Have to what?” Kelly asks, raising his hands, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know!” Ty waves his hands. “Whatever that smirk is.”

“I’m just smiling, Ty,” Kelly says, completely serene. Nick scoffs and Zane laughs.

“Don’t you dare,” Ty warns, pointing his finger at his fiancé. “Traitor.”

“Was he always such a drama queen?” Zane turns to Nick. There is a fraction of a second—a moment that might have gone unnoticed if the room didn’t consist of Fed and ex-Recon—where Nick and Zane both pause.

“Yes,” Nick answers, voice amused and teasing.

Kelly laughs while Ty feigns even more offence but Zane continues to watch Nick; he can’t decide what mask Nick is wearing or, which might even be worse, whether or not he’s wearing one at all.

Maybe things are better, or maybe Nick is still just trying to fake it ‘til he makes it. It’s not like he hasn’t said as much before. Zane likes to think Nick really does want to forgive Ty and to try and salvage and rebuild; Ty needs Nick. In a different way to how he needs Zane or Deuce or the other Sidewinder boys or his family. Ty and Nick are another entity; no doubt it has worn through slightly since they left the Marines—and it obviously wasn’t the same as it had been during their last tour—but their bond _isn’t_  the sort that can become threadbare like an old pair of jeans, or that’s not how Zane sees it. He’s spoken with Kelly enough over the last few months that he  _knows_  how much their rift has hurt Nick, is still hurting him.

But this isn’t simply a case of Nick being stubborn, he’s not just trying to show Ty that he isn’t the boss anymore and that Nick isn’t going to come running whenever Ty calls. Nick’s trying to show Ty that his actions have consequences. But it kills Zane to watch, because Ty has had consequences towering around him since he was eighteen, and they’ve been falling in around him ever since, not least of all these last few years.

It’s hard. Ty’s the love of his life and sometimes Zane wants to shake Nick until they’re both blue in the face. 

All Zane knows is that, regardless of what he thinks or what Nick is really feeling, things are going to be as awkward as hell over the next twenty or so hours.

And they’ve all just got to make the best of it.

—

After they’ve eaten and cleared up their plates, everyone heads out onto the porch. Kelly spares a thought for what four men might do to entertain themselves for an evening in a remote cabin in Colorado. While Kelly had made sure to stock up the fridge, by silent agreement with Nick—now that the rest of Sidewinder have bailed—they forgo offering alcoholic beverages. So they just sit on the porch, chatting vaguely and looking out into the woods that enclose the back of the cabin.

“We should come back in the summer,” Ty says, turning to Kelly. “Can you hike through that? Does it go anywhere?”

Kelly nods. “Circles up into the mountains; couple of us from the camp used to rock climb up over the other side. It’s not a difficult hike though, you’d fly it.”

“We could try it, anyway,” Ty says. “Might be fun.”

“It would,” Kelly agrees, throwing a surreptitious glance in Nick’s direction but he has his back to Kelly, leaning his elbows on the rail. “So, you guys decided on a date yet?”

“Not really,” Ty admits.

“We wanted to get the bookstore stuff out of the way first, get the house reworked,” Zane adds.

 _And Nick_ , Kelly thinks. Ty wanted to get back into Nick’s good graces. It’d be pretty shitty not having your best friend at your wedding. Although, honestly, Kelly’s surprised Ty would even worry that Nick wouldn’t come. Things are bad, sure. But not  _that_ bad.

Though, months without any communication would give anyone a heavy dose of doubt.

Kelly usually revels in being the group’s eternal optimist, but right now the constant  _when can we all be friends again?_ mantra running in his head is even starting to twist  _his_ gut. He just wants to smack their heads together; right or wrong, what’s done is done and yeah Kelly might have got a bullet for it and sure Nick’s boat was shot to ribbons but fucking hell they’re all alive and isn’t that what matters?

“Tell us how you really feel, Kels.” Nick scoffs, blinking slowly, green eyes blown wide like those of an owl.

“What?” It’s Kelly’s turn to blink. “Did I just—“

“Are you high?” Ty asks, smirking.

“No!” Kelly assures, almost offended. But he can’t help smiling some. “I just—I didn’t realise my internal monologue had been leaked.”

“Drugs will do that,” Zane teases.

“Shut up, you.”

“It’s true though,” Nick whispers, drawing Zane and Kelly’s gaze away from smirking at each other. “We got pulled back in and the chances were some of us might not even come back home. But we did… Fuck, I miss Elsie every damn day but there are still five of us and we made it and with all the shit that’s happened we probably shouldn’t have.”

Nick takes Kelly’s hand, and Kelly knows that look instantly. Kelly’s worn it himself. It says  _I almost fucking lost you_ ; it’s full of fear and rage and vulnerability and it’s  _wretched_. It’s the only look Kelly had for both Nick and Ty for months after they first came back, after seeing them lifeless and broken in the back of that truck. Nick turns to look at Ty then and the air around them seems to still.

“Could have lost you, Six,” Nick whispers.

“You didn’t.” Ty frowns. “You  _won’t_.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Nick says, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, and you’re a jackass. S’how we manage to put up with each other.”

Nick grins, shaking his head like he can’t believe Ty’s audacity—it’s just for show though and Kelly smiles.

“I should have mental relapses more often,” Kelly says casually, almost smug—or as close to smug as Kelly Abbott can get.

“Where did they fucking find you?” Nick asks, fond exasperation on his face. He turns back and rests a hand on the arm of Kelly’s chair, ducking in to kiss the side of Kelly’s mouth.

“ _Guys_ ,” Ty pleads, face contorting as he tries and fails not to watch as Nick smirks and deepens the kiss. “Christ.”

“Inside, babe,” Zane encourages. “Away from the mean men,” he adds, voice turning to patronising baby-speak before he swats at Ty’s ass.

“You’re never getting a blowjob ever again, I swear.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, doll.”

—

“Sounds like Ty’s caved on that blowjob threat,” Kelly says, stripping himself of his t-shirt before throwing it in the general direction of where the laundry basket  _used_ to be. Nick scoffs, setting his book aside to look up at Kelly, taking in the tanned skin and the mousey hair, lightened from spending so much time wrapped up in sea air and South Atlantic sun.

“You look good, Kels.”

“I always look good,” Kelly says, pursing his lips to smother his smirk.

“Good point, well presented.”

“You getting soppy on me, Nicky?”

“I’ve told you to stop calling me that.  _Jesus_.”

“When do I ever do what I’m told?”

“I can think of a few occasions.” Nick’s grin is deadly and it fires straight to Kelly’s cock. Trying to hide the pink rising up his neck is futile, so Kelly sticks out his tongue in defence instead. “We don’t have to listen to them all night,” Nick murmurs, “if you’d quit pacing around the room and get into bed.”

“You wanna make some noise of our own, Lucky? We might scar Ty for life.”

“Nah.” Nick waves the suggestion off. “Ty’s a big boy, he can handle it.”

“There’s another  _big boy_  who I’m  _far_  more interested in.” Kelly tries to keep his bedroom eyes unfaltering, but the telling crease of amusement catches the sides of his eyes.

“Valiant effort to hold in that laugh there, Kels.”

“I had to say it,” Kelly counters, holding his hands up as a huge smile bursts across his face. “You gave me the perfect in. I mean,  _big boy_? Come on, I  _had_  to.”

“Why don’t you give  _me_  the perfect in and come and lie down?”

“How do you manage to get away with the puns? Why is it still sexy no matter how ridiculous it is?”

“Irish charm?” Nick shrugs, sliding onto his side slightly. He contemplates patting the coverlet but he knows where to draw the line. Kelly just watches him for a moment before he shrugs too.

“Must be,” he agrees, finally settling into the bed beside Nick.

Something slaps against the other side of the wall and Kelly leans his head to the side; both men listen for a moment, picking up the faint sound of creaking and the odd grunt or moan.

“They are trying to keep it quiet,” Kelly grants.

“Doesn’t mean we have to.”

“If we get in trouble,” Kelly says, rolling onto his front and hooking a thigh over Nick’s waist until he’s straddling Nick’s pelvis, “I’m blaming you.”

“Oh yeah.” Nick chuckles, disbelieving. “ _I’m_  really the one to blame here.”

“You started it,” Kelly whispers, leaning forward, breath ghosting over Nick’s jaw. “I’m giving you your in.”

Growling, Nick turns his head to capture Kelly’s lips. His hands roam freely, easily finding their destination in the waistband of Kelly’s pyjama pants. Pulling them down with rough hands, Kelly whines, lifting his hips to make it easier but it becomes clear pretty quickly that Nick isn’t interested in getting the pants off as much as he’s interested in getting his hand wrapped around Kelly’s cock.

The whimper Kelly’s throat emits is the only rational response.

—

Having Zane tucked into his arms, basking in the afterglow, is exactly the sort of end Ty needed for a day like today. With the tension thoroughly worked almost all the way out of his muscles, he can finally—or at least make an attempt to—relax.

“Is that Kelly?” Zane murmurs, shifting in the bed, reaching for the bedside lamp in the darkened bedroom.

“What?” Ty shakes his head, listening.

And then he hears it.

The rhythmic tap of metal hitting the other side of the wall and it’s slightly louder accompaniment in the form of Kelly’s surprised sounding gasps.

“The way he’s going on you’d think he’d never seen it before,” Ty huffs, turning over and trying to bury his face into the pillow.

“I think he’s doing more than looking at it, babe.”

“Don’t.”

“It’s not like they’ve never had to listen to us before.”

“S’not the same. They take cruel pleasure in tormenting me.”

“It’s because you make it easy.”

“Zane Zachary Garrett, how dare you call me  _easy_.”

Zane just scoffs, pulling the duvet off of Ty’s face.

“Too easy,” Zane corrects, pressing a kiss to Ty’s cheek.

But they’re disturbed again by the sound of Nick saying something that gets lost through the wall but has a filthy groan attached to the end. Ty screws up his face pitifully.

“We’re never coming here again.”

“Don’t pout,” Zane chides, pulling Ty’s body back against his, wrapping an arm tight around Ty’s waist. “Just try and sleep. They can’t last too long.”

—

Ultimately, Zane is wrong about Nick and Kelly’s stamina. And sure, being kept up until the early hours of the morning is highly exhausting, especially when sex noises turn into laughter which leads to a war of  _who can bang on the wall the hardest without putting a whole through it_? But it feels a lot like how things used to be, how Ty remembers things being before NOLA and certainly before Nick’s outburst in Scotland.

It also means they end up indulging in a long Sunday morning lie-in—which is never a bad thing.

“Success on your part,” Zane whispers, clapping Kelly on the shoulder while Ty loads their duffle into the back seat of the Mustang.

“It had to happen; Ozone and Digger will come up in the summer and we’ll all hang out then. But this? This just needed to be a them thing. If I could have locked them in the cabin and just gone rock-climbing I would have… But this was less suspicious.” Kelly shrugs, like it’s a common occurrence to have to plot the reconciliation of your two closest friends. “Thanks for getting him out here, and sorry about last night.”

“This morning is probably more accurate,” Zane counters with a smirk. “Anything to make Ty squirm is entertainment to me.”

“Oh,  _thanks_ ,” Ty drones, suddenly beside them, a sardonic twist to his lips. “Why am I marrying you?”

“Please, you asked me like a hundred times. I’m only marrying you because I feel bad.”

“Pity marriage?” Nick scoffs. “Wow, Garrett, what a gent.” 

“At least someone’s on my side for once,” Ty murmurs, catching Nick’s eyes.

There’s a moment of silence, one where they truly lay to rest their demons—the porch door swings shut and Kelly winces.

“Shit,” he mutters. “I’ll have to climb in the window again.”

Nick shakes his head at Zane, who’s looking at Kelly with morbid curiosity. “It’s easier not to ask.”

“Well, we’ll let you get to that,” Ty says.

“Drive safe.”

“We’ll text when we get back into Baltimore.”

“Yeah, okay.” Nick nods.

Ty bites the inside of his cheek, contemplating turning around to actually get in the car, but Nick’s hand lands on his forearm and their eyes meet.

Ty uses his other hand to pull Nick’s body against his own, one arm tucked under Nick’s arm and the other over his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Ty whispers, squeezing.

“It’s okay.” Nick’s words are muffled against Ty’s hair because of the way Nick is holding Ty’s head against him, cradling him like a precious antique Nick is shocked to have in his hands. Like a vase knocked off a high table, you can see the broken pieces, but it’s okay. You caught it just in time. Luckily enough. “Love you, Tyler.”

“Love you too, O.”

Nick pulls away, shrugging out of Ty’s grasp with a shrug. Ty mirrors the actions, rolling his shoulders like a dog ready to roughhouse.

“See you later, Kels,” Ty calls.

“I don’t get a cuddle?” Kelly pouts.

Ty laughs but he knows Kelly’s dead serious so hugs and handshakes and pleasantries are exchanged between all and it takes them all another half an hour before Zane and Ty finally get inside the car.

“So they were never coming, then?” Zane just looks at Ty, as if he needs clarification. “You know I mean Owen and Digger.”

“You heard us?”

Ty nods.

“You think Nick knows?”

“That we were set up? I don’t know. Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“It doesn’t,” Zane assures, setting a hand on Ty’s thigh.

“It’s been a weird weekend,” Ty sighs, shaking his head. He feels like he’s just walked off a rollercoaster, head spinning and birds tweeting around his head.

“Next time we head to Madrid and stay in bed for the duration,” Zane suggests.And he didn’t even use the ‘v’ word, so it sounds pretty damn good to Ty’s ears.

“Deal.” 


End file.
